Overtime
by LilFlow
Summary: USUK Arthur's been working late into the night only to fall asleep at his desk. Upon waking up he finds a familiar jacket covering him and a loud voice shouting from outside the room.


**Overtime**

It was the time of night when most would be sleeping deeply in their beds, unconscious to the happenings of the midnight world, where the stars are hidden behind deep, billowing clouds that glow in the moonlight over the city's orange hue of street lights. However, the city of London is an animate place where its citizens are constantly on the move, whether it be the nightly pub crawl around Embankment or the lights and voices of the West End.

Within all of this, there is one small flicker of a failing electric lamp from an office window, standing out from the rest of the pitch black building. The sound of a pen scratching fills the room as Arthur works deep into the night, furiously scribbling onto his pile of paperwork. Falling asleep was not an option, not when the country's economy was in this much of a mess and his boss was demanding more and more results every day.

Throwing down his pen, Arthur sighed and put his head in his hands. Tiredness clawed at his eyes as he rubbed them irritably. Looking down at the paper on the desk, he found his pen, scrawled his signature below the long list of figures and added it to the untidy pile beside him and turned his gaze to stare numbly at the mountain that remained for him to finish and sign. An endless cycle of scribble, stamp, sign, scribble, stamp, sign that would continue long into the early hours of the morning.

"A small break wouldn't hurt." He said, stretching and running a hand through his already messy blonde hair. Making a pillow out of his arms on the desk, Arthur closed his eyes and yawned a sleepy, "Just to rest my eyes..." and started to doze.

A bang woke Arthur with a start. The sun was blazing through the window, hitting him in the face as he groggily tried to place himself. There was a weight on his back that had not been there when he had gone to sleep.

_Gone to sleep..._

He leapt up. He'd gone to sleep! He hadn't finished the paperwork! Looking at the clock, he slumped back into his chair and let out an exasperated moan. He'd missed the meeting.

Realising that the weight had disappeared off his back, Arthur groped on the floor around his chair, trying to find what he thought was an elderly blanket. What he found instead left him stunned for several seconds before he could pull himself together and think straight. He held in his hands a tattered, old bomber jacket, lined with that the worn out fluff that he knew all too well. Alfred had been there.

Arthur whipped around, scanning the room, half expecting the American to jump out from an impossible hiding place. After confirming that he was definitely the only person present in his office, Arthur, still holding the jacket, went to the door. Reaching out for the handle, Arthur recoiled his hand as the same loud bang that had woken him sounded from outside the room.

There was someone outside. The strong accent of a man was angrily yelling down the telephone at a nameless person. Arthur stared between the jacket and the door in disbelief. The Alfred that always wore that annoyingly goofy grin was outside his office, quite obviously losing his temper with whoever was on the other end of the phone. Arthur felt sorry for the poor soul that Alfred was biting down upon. But at the same time was amused as to what could have gotten the younger nation so riled up.

Another thump and Arthur couldn't bear the wait any longer and he pulled the door open. Alfred proved to be completely oblivious to this and continued his ranting down the telephone.

"I don't care if he was expected at the meeting this morning! No! Don't you dare call him lazy!"

"Alfred..."

"Do you even realise how much work you gave him?! The guy was knackered!"

"Alfred!"

"Well you should do it yourself if you needed it so desperately!"

"That's enough, Alfred!"

This time he heard. Whipping round to see Arthur standing in the doorway of his office, Alfred nearly laughed. The older nation's hair was sticking up at odd angles and his shirt was in a crumpled state. However, Alfred stopped himself from collapsing into hysterics when he noticed the dark rings around Arthur's eyes. He was completely worn out.

Arthur held out his hand to take the telephone from Alfred, who complied with a groan, suddenly embarrassed that he had lost his temper in front of Arthur, "You're boss..."

Bemused at Alfred's reaction, Arthur held the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?

"No, I'm sorry I wasn't there, it's been rough.

"I'll have it all finished by this afternoon.

"Yes, yes. Goodbye."

Turning to Alfred again, Arthur couldn't help but smile.

"He said that you're the rudest man he has ever had the displeasure of conversing with."

Alfred looked up and grinned, "And you expect any different? What kind of hero is polite to the villain of a boss who makes the most important person in the country work until God knows when at night?!"

Arthur chuckled, "Still prattling on about this hero stuff, hmm?"

"Of course!" Alfred boasted, "A hero is a hero, right!"

It wasn't a question, Arthur noted. Alfred had always enjoyed showing off whenever and wherever he could and today would not be any different.

"...And therefore, I am a hero!... Hey! Are you listening?!"

"Huh? What? Oh, yes, yes. I was listening." Arthur rolled his eyes in the direction of his office. "Now, if you're just going to be a nuisance, then you can leave. I have a lot of work that still needs to be finished."

"What?! Nuisance?! I'm a hero!"

"Yeah, yeah, Hero-brat." Arthur said, with his back turned so that Alfred couldn't see his smile.

"Wait! I'll help! I'll help!" Alfred jumped in front of Arthur, waving his arms like a mad-man. "I'll prove that I'm a hero by helping you finish your work faster! It's what any hero would do!"

"Oh?" Arthur looked up at the American, in no way hiding the snigger his face had adopted, "And how, pray tell, do you plan on helping me? It's all just paperwork that I need to fill in. There's nothing for you to help with." He grinned an evil grin, "Too bad, hero-boy."

To Arthur's dismay, Alfred did not protest, rather, he glowered at Arthur and practically threw himself into the chair opposite. Rolling his eyes, Arthur sighed, "This isn't going to take all that long, alright?" No change. "Look, if you really want to be helpful, you can get me a cup of tea, or something that'll wake me up a bit." Alfred looked up at Arthur, a hopeful smile on his face as he leapt out of the chair and ran out of the room, "Just no coffee!" Arthur shouted after him, chuckling at the younger nations behaviour, and started working.

The two sat in peace for the next hour or so, the sound of Arthur's pen scratching now harmonising with Alfred's humming as he kicked his legs lazily over the arm of the chair, waiting for Arthur to finish, which was signalled by a low groan as he stretched and dropped his pen on the desk with a rare triumphant look upon his face.

Alfred's head appeared from under the fort he'd made with his jacket, supporting the curiosity on his face that would normally be present on a child. "Finished?" He asked, tilting his head and causing his jacket to collapse into a heap on his lap.

"Yeah." Arthur smiled, gathering the papers together into one pile and placing them in a folder, ready for him to take to the afternoon meeting.

"Right, let's go then!" Alfred jumped up and made for the door.

"'Let's'? Wait! Alfred!" Arthur stopped the American, his confusion once again rising.

"Well, yeah." Alfred said in his matter-of-factly tone, that always seemed to annoy Arthur to the extent that he often thought he could hear his teeth grinding inside his mouth. "Why else would I be in London right now? Didn't you know it was a meeting between your boss and mine?"

"If I'd known that, then I would've made sure not to miss the meeting this morning." Arthur scowled, trudging past the taller man into the secretary's office outside of his. "Can you call a car, please?"

"There's already one waiting for you and Mr. Jones outside, Mr. Kirkland." She replied with an uneasy smile, not wanting her boss to snap at her as he had done with the American moments ago.

"Perfect." He said, making for the door without his usual charm and composure. Jerking his head over his shoulder he saw that Alfred was still standing at the office door, obviously taken aback by Arthur's foul mood. "You coming or what?" Arthur said in a tone that was stereotypical of someone from one of his eastern counties.

Alfred hesitated, considering whether he should ask for a second car to be called so that he didn't have to sit with Arthur's glare for the entire trip to Downing Street. "Come on!" Alfred snapped back to the corridor.

"Right. Yeah, hang on." He sighed, and followed the Brit out of the building.

The car journey was silent. The driver kept shooting worried looks between the two men on the back seat, unsure of whether to strike up a conversation with his usually very civil passenger and his loud and proud guest. He decided against the idea and let the awkwardness continue between them.

The two were greeted by the staff with the usual heartiness before both made their way to the meeting room, only to find that they were late and the group of men and women in the room were already in the middle of a discussion.

"Ah, ladies and gentlemen, it appears the late-comers have arrived." The British Prime-Minister said with a smile. Arthur took the hint and quickly made his way to his seat on the right of the man, while Alfred sat opposite next to the American President.

"I do believe we now have everything we need to continue." The man turned to Arthur who handed over the file.

The meeting continued along the usual lines. Suggestions were made by Alfred and swiftly turned down by Arthur, who was still adopting the most prudent of scowls in the direction of the American that even the security officers on the opposite side of the room secretly found him intimidating.

At the end of the meeting, Arthur hurried to pack his notes away before there was any chance of being swept away into any more meaningless discussions of hamburgers being made into currency ("because it would be awesome!") and made for the door, only to be halted by his boss, who's stern expression finally broke through his frown. "S-sir?"

"Look, I don't know what's gotten you into such a bad mood, but I've had enough of it." He leaned towards Arthur, making sure no one else could hear, "I've got enough problems with the election, and I don't need any more negativity from you or people are sure to pick up on it, alright." It wasn't a question and the Prime-Minister left Arthur standing there in a daze, slowly nodding and letting his files slip.

"You're gonna drop those, y'know."

"Huh? What-?" Arthur looked up to see Alfred inches from his face, and dropped the remaining papers.

"Told you." He smirked and bent down to pick up the fallen sheets. "You need to get with it, man, otherwise all hell will break loose."

Arthur grabbed the papers and spat back, "Just what I wanted to hear, thanks." He turned on his heel and strode from the room, stuffing the papers into a folder as he walked, only to feel them slipping from his grip again as Alfred pulled them out of his hand. "What on earth are you-?!"

"What the hell is your problem?!" Alfred shouted, silencing Arthur, who just stared up at the taller man, any hints of anger on his face were gone, replaced by surprise.

Pulling himself together, Arthur pushed Alfred away from him, his brows furrowing once more. "What do you care?!" He shouted back. Everyone in the room was looking, not good. "Give me back the papers, I'm going home."

"Not until you answer." Alfred pointedly stood in the way of the exit, folding his arms and slightly crumpling the papers.

"I have no answer for you. Now you would kindly let me past? I want to get some rest so that I don't miss any more meetings that would result in me being subjected to your stupidity again." Arthur grabbed the papers and dodged around Alfred and began his descent down the stairs towards the door, but was once again stopped.

Alfred grabbed his wrist and dragged Arthur into a side room, pushing him into the wall, before closing the door. Arthur couldn't look up at the man who was now glaring down at him. Seeing Alfred angry twice in one day was too much, first when he was on the telephone, and now. It wasn't like him to get frustrated this easily.

"Lose a bit of your damn ego!" Alfred slammed his fist against the wall, forcing Arthur to look up.

"Like you're one to talk, Mr. 'Hero'." Arthur growled back.

"Don't give me that. What's got you so worked up?" Alfred leaned back on his heels, realising that shouting at the older nation wasn't going to get him anywhere, especially when said nation was Arthur, the most stubborn man in the entire world. It could've been worse though, Alfred thought to himself; he could have been dealing with Francis, the most obnoxious person in the world.

"What do you think has gotten me worked up?" Arthur muttered, so quietly that Alfred very nearly didn't hear him.

He looked down at the smaller man. He was shaking slightly. Figuring he must still be angry at him, Alfred didn't change his tone, "Well how am I supposed to know if you won't tell me. I might be a hero, but I'm not psychic."

"You bloody idiot!" Arthur looked up into Alfred's face. There were angry tears in his eyes that Alfred hadn't expected to be there. He stared down into the green eyes, surprised at both the exclamation and at the tears that were now sliding down Arthur's cheeks.

"You show up at my place, swan around my office as if you own the place, shout at my boss, get in the way of my work, and then you have the nerve as to announce that you were there for the damned meeting!" Arthur breathed heavily, steadily working himself into hyperventilation. "And I thought that-" He stopped himself, choking back more tears as Alfred stared at him is dismay.

"Of all the stupid..." Alfred smiled and pulled Arthur into an embrace. "Why on earth would I have been in your office if I hadn't been there to see you? I would've gone to the hotel with the boss, right?"

"What are you...?" Arthur looked up to see that Alfred's face was slightly pink and he was avoiding looking down at the smaller nation.

"We were driving past on our way to the hotel and your office light was still on." Alfred paused, his face turning a deeper shade of rouge. "You always work way too hard." Finally, Alfred looked down at Arthur, still looking sheepish, "Falling asleep on your desk is irresponsible, you know." Arthur noticed the slight mock of his accent in Alfred's words and frowned, though it is more disapproving than angry. "You were freezing." Alfred continued. "I couldn't leave you like that, so I-"

"-Let me borrow your jacket." Arthur finished. He let slip a hint of a smile, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It was heavy, y'know." Alfred stepped away from the Brit, still scarlet in the face; however Arthur held onto the hem of his bomber jacket, in a similar way to a small child. "Thanks." He said, causing Alfred to turn back to face him. Arthur blushed and stared at the floor, "I'm sorry I got mad... I'm tired, and stressed, and-"

"-making excuses?" Alfred laughed at Arthur's responsive scowl. "Sorry, sorry. Couldn't resist."

"I bet you couldn't." Arthur punched the other man lightly on the arm, who responded by keeling over in mock death. "Oh, stop it. You're not a kid anymore." Arthur chuckled.

"Was that a smile on the face of the great United Kingdom just then?" Alfred taunted, poking the corners of Arthur's mouth.

"Get off, you git."

"No way." Alfred grinned, pulling Arthur close again.

"Idiot! Let go! What if someone comes in?" The smaller man pushed back against Alfred's chest, trying to break free from his grip, but was easily over-powered and embraced by the muscular arms.

"This is punishment." Alfred smiled into Arthur's messy hair.

"For what?!" Arthur's voice was muffled by the American's chest, which he was still fighting back against.

"Not greeting me properly this morning." He chuckled and steered Arthur towards the door. "And now that that's been established, let's go. Hanging around here is boring and there's no way I'm being dragged into another meeting."

"Then why the hell did you bother coming earlier?!" Arthur yelled between breaths as he was dragged out of the building and into the waiting car, half running to keep up with Alfred's strides.

"Oh, come on! That's obvious!"

"You wanted to annoy everyone by making stupid suggestions to the cabinet?" He jabbed Alfred's back to emphasise to annoyance at the American's guessing game.

"Well, there is that..." He was punched. "And if I didn't tell the boss that I was going to the meeting, then I wouldn't have been able to see you," Arthur blushed furiously, "and annoy the hell out of you as well as everyone else." Another punch. This time over the head. "Kidding! Kidding!"

"You're an arse, you know." Arthur looked out of the car window as they drove though London and out of the city. He yawned and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the idiotic comments from next to him.

"Arthur? Are you listening?" Alfred finally said, noticing the blatant lack of objections from the Englishman. Glancing at the seat next to him, Arthur had his head leant against the window with his eyes closed. He was breathing gently in a way that only he could. Alfred smiled and pulled Arthur over towards him, "That can't be comfortable." He was taken aback when the small man's head rested on his shoulder without any encouragement from himself and Arthur's arm made its way around his waist.

Alfred smiled and rested his head on top of Arthur's, "Why can't you always be like this?" He whispered.

"Because you're an idiot."

Alfred jumped. He thought that Arthur had been sleeping, but this much had now been disproved. Arthur opened one eye and looked up and the startled man, who was now turning a frightening shade of red. He laughed and leant back against the American again. "You know, your face right now is priceless." He smiled up at Alfred and closed his eyes again, "This time shut up and let me rest a bit before we get back to the house."

"Uh... yeah..." Alfred stammered, shifting back into the seat properly.

"Surprised you that badly, huh?" Arthur chuckled, "I haven't seen that face since you were a kid and I caught you sneaking sweets out of the kitchen cupboard."

"Only old men need to rest during a car journey." Alfred retorted, still blushing slightly, but smiling at the memory of himself climbing on the cabinets as a child to see what was hidden on the upper shelves.

"Whatever." Arthur sighed, looking up at the car roof, "It's not that long a trip, and I only got a couple of hours sleep last night."

"A couple?" Alfred batted the older man over the forehead, "I was waiting for you to wake up for at least five hours! Talk about neglecting your work!"

"You hypocrite!" Arthur sat up and returned the slap in mock anger.

"Well, at least you're in a better mood now." Alfred pulled Arthur back into an embrace, making sure that his head once again rested on his shoulder.

"Yeah..." Arthur nodded, letting the American snake his arm around his shoulders.

"Is it that hard to stay angry at me?" Alfred grinned, adjusting his glasses on his nose. Arthur jabbed him hard in the stomach. "Still, it's good to see you finally laugh. That's a rarity worth waiting for!" He gave the Brit's shoulder a squeeze and winked down at him in a way that Arthur considered very American, "Even if it is rude to make a hero like me wait."

The rest of the car journey was surprisingly pleasant, although Alfred was on the receiving end of several more punches before they pulled up the driveway of Arthur's house. The driver tipped his cap to the two men, which Alfred pointed out as being overly British, which resulted in him being shoved aside by Arthur as he thanked the driver and informed him of the arrangements for when he next needed to be picked up.

"But it's just too posh!" Alfred complained as they walked through the front door.

"It's proper and polite." Arthur argued, "Just because you lack basic manners in the States, doesn't mean we have to as well."

"We don't lack manners, Arthur. Your expectations are just too high!" Alfred emphasised, pointing at the ceiling as they made their way through the hallway.

"Why are you complaining about something so trivial?" Arthur rolled his eyes at the American and dropped his file on a side table. "Anyway, weren't you staying at a hotel in the city? Why did you come back to my house?"

"Aaah! You're so picky!" Alfred slumped down onto the sofa, huffing.

Arthur leant over the back of the seat and poked Alfred's head, "Well?"

"Because it's more fun this way." Alfred looked up at the Englishman, and before Arthur could say 'crumpets' he had been hoisted over the back of the chair and onto Alfred's lap. "I get to spend more time with you."

"You bloody idiot!" Arthur was once again fighting to get away from Alfred, "Let me go!" His face was so red he looked like a blonde tomato, but Alfred held tight until the weaker man eventually gave up struggling and lay on top of him, grumbling under his breath.

The two stayed like that for a while before Alfred realised that Arthur's breathing had slowed and he had stopped complaining. Looking down to inspect the small Brit, he shook him slightly, "Hey...? Arthur?" He looked closer at his face, "Are you kidding around again, 'cause it wasn't funny last time, and it ain't this time either." Arthur's eyes were closed and the furrow in his brow had disappeared. Upon closer inspection, Alfred was surprised to see a tiny smile on the other man's face as he slept. "You can seriously sleep anywhere, can't you." Alfred stated to the sleeping Arthur before lifting him up and carrying him up the stairs to his bedroom.

When Arthur woke up it was light outside again. He could hear the birds singing outside, a good sign of spring finally arriving. He turned over and almost fell out of the bed from the shock of seeing Alfred slumped over the side of the bed, sleeping soundly, his glasses pressed hard against his nose. Regaining his composure, Arthur chuckled under his breath, removed Alfred's glasses and placed them on the bed-side-table before wrapping himself in a dressing-gown and leaving the room, without realising that his clothes had been changed while he had been sleeping.

Alfred woke with a start as his arm slipped off the bed and he fell with a crash to the floor. Unlike Arthur, Alfred was still fully dressed, his shirt was crumpled after sleeping in it and his tie, though it was loose, had decided to try and strangle him by tying itself around his neck while he had been sleeping. He groped around on the floor, thinking that he'd dropped his glasses before noticing the distinct lack of shouting coming from the bed at the noise he had just made. Pulling himself to his feet, Alfred noticed that there was no blurry shape of Arthur in the bed, and that his glasses were sitting neatly on the table next to him and had not been hidden by any of Arthur's little friends after all. However, there was a problem. There was a very familiar, albeit unwelcome, smell coming from downstairs.

"Arthur! You're not cooking again are you?!" Alfred yelled as he came running into the kitchen. He had removed his tie on the way down the stairs and was dangling it by his side as he watched in dismay as the Brit attempted to toss a very burnt looking pancake, that was stuck to the frying-pan. He seemed to have not heard Alfred's outburst as he had entered the room, that or he had ignored it, and continued his futile attempt of tossing the pancake, only to be surprised when Alfred pointedly removed the frying-pan from his hand and dumped the contents into the bin.

"What are you-?!" Arthur watched as his morning's work was disposed of, and slumped against the flour-covered worktop. "Shouldn't have even tried, right?" He sighed, looking up at Alfred's exasperated expression.

"You're gonna kill someone with that stuff one day." Alfred smiled reassuringly over to Arthur, trying not to upset him. "I appreciate the thought though."

Arthur rolled his eyes and laughed softly. "I should feed it to Francis. It's shut him up for a while." His evil smirk flashed across his face, reminding Alfred of the days when Arthur had been a pirate.

"He's one of the few that might actually survive your cooking." Alfred laughed, "He's way too stubborn to die by your hand."

"True." Arthur agreed, turning to face out of the window, "But it doesn't hurt to try, does it?"

The morning sunlight shone through the kitchen window onto the tiled floor. There was a slight breeze outside, the perfect weather, in Arthur's opinion. Not too hot. Not too cold.

"By the way," a thought had just crossed his mind, "your said 'one of the few'. Who are the others?" He turned to face Alfred who, he noted, had turned slightly pink upon the asking of the question.

Pulling himself up to his full height, Alfred tried to look as if it hadn't fazed him. "Well, there's Peter, of course. He's still gullible enough to believe that your cooking could one day improve." Arthur shot him his mock death glare, which was his way of telling Alfred that he was digging himself into a hole. "And of course," he continued hurriedly, "there's Matt, and Kiku, although he finds anything western amazing..." Arthur cleared his throat loudly, signally impatience, even if he was secretly enjoying Alfred get all flustered. "And, well, and me..." he finished.

"And who?" Arthur questioned, smiling at the American's discomfort.

"Me." He repeated, turning away from the Brit, blushing furiously.

"Is that right now?" Arthur chuckled, making his way across the kitchen towards the embarrassed man. Arthur slid his arm around Alfred's waist and rested his head on his shoulder, "Thanks." He said, his face turning ever so slightly pink, smiling up at the other man.

Alfred sheepishly avoided looking down at the man who was now unexpectedly holding onto him. It wasn't like Arthur to be so affectionate. Alfred hadn't seen him like this since he had been a child and the older man had always been pleased to see him. Now, Arthur always seemed to be angry at whatever Alfred did, even if his intentions were good. He'd always teased Arthur, telling him his age was getting to him, but he had never meant it. He just wanted to get his attention; and now that he had gotten it, he didn't know what to do.

Eventually looking down at Arthur, Alfred almost jumped back away from him when his sight was met by an all too familiar scowl. Even though, Arthur was still holding on to the back of Alfred's shirt, his signature frown was sitting on his face with a deathly prudency.

"Wha- What's wrong?" Alfred managed to stammer before Arthur let go of him and turned his back, leaning instead on the worktop next to him.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie!"

"I said that it's nothing!"

"And I said don't lie!"

"It's stupid."

"I don't care!"

They were both left glaring at each other before Alfred finally took a step closer to Arthur and placed an arm around him. He'd seen it. A certain wetness in Arthur's eyes when he had looked down at him. His shoulders were shaking slightly and he was looking anywhere but at Alfred, desperate for him not to see him cry.

"Don't say that it's nothing." Alfred said, holding Arthur tightly, so as to let him know that he was there for him. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Arthur sniffed, "I was thinking about something. It was stupid."

"Then what is it?"

"You're going to leave again, aren't you?" Arthur turned to face Alfred, still glaring through his tears.

He hadn't seen Arthur cry since that day all those years ago. It wasn't something he'd wanted to witness again. It had taken everything to stop himself from dropping everything and holding him in the rain back then. It had been so hard to look down upon the small, crying man and reassure himself that separating was for the best.

But this time he was going to make sure that he was there for him. He wasn't going to abandon him again. He pulled Arthur up into his arms and held him tightly, running his fingers through the scruffy blonde hair and keeping a firm hold around the Brit's small waist.

"I'm not going anywhere." He breathed into Arthur's ear. "I'm staying right here."

"Don't lie." Arthur said into Alfred's shoulder, mimicking the American's previous statement.

"I'm not lying." Alfred reassured. "I'm not going anywhere, I swear."

Arthur held onto the back of Alfred's shirt and allowed himself to be picked up and carried out into the living room, even if he did find it highly undignified and embarrassing.

Alfred sat on the sofa, still holding Arthur close to him. He wiped away a stray tear that was still making its way down Arthur's cheek and smiled at the Brit's wet face. His emerald green eyes were red and sore, a result from both his crying and his lack of sleep. He was still shaking slightly, but was starting to calm down and relax into Alfred's embrace.

"You know," Alfred said, placing his hand on Arthur's back, "anyone would think that I was the older one if they saw us like this."

"I'd much prefer no one seeing us like this." Arthur replied, looking up at Alfred from his shoulder.

"Embarrassed are we?" Alfred smirked.

Arthur buried his face into Alfred's chest in an attempt to hide the blush on his face, but was pulled up to Alfred's eye-level. "What're you-?"

"Shhh" Alfred smile and ran a hand through Arthur's hair, his own blonde mop flopping over his face and covering one eye.

Alfred leant his forehead on Arthur's, who tried to look away but was held in place by the other's hand under his chin.

"I swear," Alfred whispered, "I'm not going anyway."

He leant in and gently touched his lips to Arthur's. Jumping back slightly in surprise, Arthur stared at Alfred, his face completely red. Alfred smiled, his cheeks just as flushed as Arthur's after what he had just done.

"You swear?" Arthur managed to say after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah." Alfred grinned, "After all, I am a hero!"

"Idiot." Arthur shook his head, laughing at the younger man; all traces of his tears had vanished.

Arthur moved in closer to Alfred again, hugging his chest, while Alfred brushed his hair lightly and ran one hand down the Englishman's spine. His hand glided through Arthur's hair, down his cheek and under his chin, raising it slightly so that he could look at his eyes. Arthur flicked the bangs away from Alfred's clear blue eyes as the taller man moved closer to his face.

It was warm, Arthur thought, the touch of Alfred's lips, his strong arms wrapped tightly around him, squeezing him gently and lovingly. Their legs tangled together as Arthur lay on top of Alfred's chest as they kissed. Arthur's arms around Alfred's neck, not wanting to let go, wanting to hold him and make sure that he was not dreaming. Alfred had said that he wasn't going to leave him. He was staying.

Arthur knew that it was different from the past.

This time, whenever he looked at Alfred he saw the man that he had grown into, not the boy that he had once been. It was time to let go of the past, Arthur had decided. Of course, he still got annoyed at Alfred, he was just too carefree at times, but he loved that side of him too.

Of course, they could not be together all of the time. They were separate nations, each with different responsibilities. But that wouldn't change anything. Alfred had promised to stay with Arthur, and that he did. He would often find the Brit curled up, asleep at his desk after overworking himself and decided it must be yet another one of his strange habits, like not learning to cook but doing it anyway. Arthur often had to sit and wait for Alfred to finish playing whatever videogame Kiku had sent him, before the American remembered that they were meant to be going to a meeting.

"This is the last time I'm waiting for you, I swear!"

"Yeah, yeah." Alfred waved over his shoulder with one hand and held the controller in the other.

"I mean it! We're always late! It's embarrassing." Arthur huffed and sat against the arm of the sofa next to Alfred.

"I'll be done in a minute, then we can go." Alfred smiled at the man next to him and made sure to shoot the closest zombie on the screen.

Arthur sighed and leant his head on Alfred's shoulder; something which the American knew was a signal that he was bored. He put the controller down on the arm of the chair and lightly kissed the top of Arthur's head before leaping and holding onto the startled Brit's wrist and announcing that it was time to leave.

"A hero is never late!" He shouted to the ceiling.

Arthur chuckled, as Alfred took his hand and led him to the door.


End file.
